Succumbing to Childhood
by underwatersecrets
Summary: Harry transports himself into a different universe where he is now a baby and his parents are alive. Although terrified, Harry realizes that now is his chance to experience a normal life with his parents. Voldemort seems to be nonexistent in this new life, but as Harry grows older he may come to realize that some things haven't changed after all.
1. Chapter 1 - First Steps

**~Succumbing to Childhood~**

**Summary: **Harry transports himself into a different universe, where he is now a baby and his parents are alive. Although terrified, Harry realizes that now is his chance to experience a normal life with his parents. Voldemort seems to be nonexistent in this new life, but as Harry grows older, he may come to realize that some things haven't changed after all.

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoy this idea.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – First Steps<strong>

My eyes were closed tight. The suction of the wind escaping the invisible room I stood in was deafening to my ears. My hair and robes were waving around madly, disturbed by the sudden change in atmosphere. It sounded as though a bomb had been dropped in the distance, and was making contact with the ground in a matter of seconds. It was suddenly silent. And then I waited for it – the impact. I anticipated I was going to feel it—a sharp pain, perhaps—but it never happened.

Did I kill him? Was it over? Oh Merlin...was I dead? I opened my eyes, not knowing what to expect.

I was sitting in front of a brown couch. Did I accidently apparate?

I tried to look to my left, immediately regretting it. My neck was extremely sore.

I had to get up. I had to investigate this strange place. But I felt weak. I could barely feel my legs. I grabbed onto the couch and lifted myself up. Upon doing so, I noticed that my hand looked a bit swollen. I brushed it off…after all, I had just come from battle. It could've been anything.

With a tight grip on the couch, I took a couple of wobbly steps to the side.

_Dammit, Harry. You can do this. You're not weak._

I let go of the couch and prepared to take more steps, using the carpet a couple of feet in front of me to spot myself.

_Bloody perfect! __What's wrong with my legs?_

My legs felt so boneless and wobbly that I had to check them to make sure I hadn't splinched a piece off. That's when I noticed my feet. Was it merely my terrible eye sight or did my feet look terribly small-?

"_Pssst_! Lily...come in here!"

My eyes widened. That voice. Where had I heard that voice? I turned my head in the direction the voice had come from.

It was a man—a man I had only seen in pictures—sitting behind me right now. At least, it _appeared_ so. This couldn't be real, of course. I must be imagining this.

Then I heard a gasp come from the entrance of the room. And there appeared another person I had only ever seen in pictures, but this time it was a woman.

Upon seeing me there, standing, she asked "Did I miss it, James?" She looked hopeful.

"Not yet, Lils," he –_James_– said, his voice quiet.

I stared at them in disbelief while my heart raced. I was definitely in a trance...or a dream. I must have been knocked out during the fight, and now I was hallucinating. Because if these people were who I thought they were, they were my parents.

"I think he's a bit frightened," Lily said, apparently noticing my look.

I was definitely hallucinating. My mother looked incredibly tall from where she stood. _And_ I was seeing my hands and feet different sizes. Not to mention the fact that they had both been dead for almost two decades.

"C'mon Harry...come to me...you can do it," James said. He reached out to me.

_No…it can't be._

The situation occurred to me. I was reliving an old memory—a memory of taking my first steps.

I looked into James's eyes—those hazel eyes that I didn't inherit. The only difference, between him and I, according to Remus and Sirius. He really did look like me. It was like staring into a mirror.

He smiled at me. It was a genuine smile. A kind of smile I had never seen before. It was as if I brought joy to his entire world...as if he really cared for me.

I had to do this. I wanted so badly to make it to him.

My heart beating increasingly faster, I took my first wobbly step towards him – _my dad_. I looked at my foot. It was a chubby baby foot. _My_ baby foot. _Come on, baby foot._

On the second step, I almost lost balance. Lily gasped a little, and I felt bad for scaring her.

"Good job, Harry, almost there."

It was just the encouragement I needed from him.

I didn't understand why this was so hard, but I kept at it. Next thing I knew, I took a third step. Then a fourth step! I was sure I could run. My fifth step was an attempt to do so, but it turned into me falling into my sixth step. Then I was just falling.

James caught me just in time.

"Good job, Harry! Good job!" was all I heard coming from my parents. I could feel how proud they were. I couldn't remember the last time someone had praised me. It felt so incredibly amazing, and for once I felt rather special.

But there was something else that felt weird. I could feel his soft robes between my little fingers. I could feel his large, strong hands – individual fingers, even – around my rib cage. I could smell his deodorant. I could feel gravity on me as he passed me to Lily. I could feel her soft lips as she kissed my entire face. Her hands were more gentle and soft than James's. It all felt so _real._

I got a whiff of Lily. I expected to smell flowers. But she didn't smell like that. She smelled fresh. Like laundry straight out of the drier. It was wonderful.

Then I became aware of how I felt. I looked down at my body.

I was tiny. I had a fluffy diaper on. I soaked that thought in for a moment...it was a little embarrassing. Here I was, subconsciously experiencing a few real life-like moments with my parents for the first time, and I was in a damn diaper.

I had a plain white onesie on. At least it covered a majority of the big, embarrassing diaper. But I still felt half naked. I didn't usually walk around without pants on.

I looked up at my mom's eyes. They were so pretty and green. No wonder everybody felt the need to comment on my eyes. But they just looked so much prettier on her...

I wanted to talk to her. I tried.

_"It's me, mom..."_

But I was horrified when all that came out of my mouth was a series of babble words, with the word "ma" thrown in the mix.

I tried again.

"Ma?"

That was all I could muster.

Lily noticed my confusion. "Yes, Harry. You did so good. You're so strong." She pulled me in tight.

I wondered when I would stop hallucinating. I didn't want it to end. But I knew it was going to.

I yawned.

Lily chuckled. "Walking is tiring, isn't it? Let's get you to bed. It's about time anyway," she said, checking a clock nearby.

My parents both tucked me into bed that night. I soaked in every loving word that they said to me before they left. I really was loved, and it felt so different…but rather good. I tried to keep my eyes open so I could just see their faces. I wanted to remember how alive they were in this memory. But slowly and unfortunately, as I lay there, I began to drift to sleep. My last thoughts were sad as I realized that when I woke up I would probably be conscious again and in my own world – far away from these wonderful memories. I wondered if the battle was over…I wondered where my body might be.

And then everything went black.

* * *

><p>A crow cawed loudly right outside my window, waking me out of my sleep like an alarm clock.<p>

I stretched my legs and peeled my eyes open, letting my blurry vision adjust to the blue morning light filtering in.

The first thing I noticed was the mobile above my bed.

I sat up in my bed – except it was more like my cage. I was in a crib.

_Oh right._ I thought. But shouldn't I be done hallucinating?

I stood up in my crib with terrible balance, holding onto the bars for support. I tried to call for James or Lily. And, of course, all I could say was babble.

I noticed something wet on me. More like, in my pants. Well, diaper.

_Bloody hell no._

Did I really sleep through that?

Not only was I horrified from the idea of wetting myself, but realizing that I was still in this baby form was starting to scare me. This hallucination was getting weird, especially since it still felt incredibly real.

"Baaa!" I tried to say "help" as loud as I could, but obviously my voice would not let me. I was so uncomfortable in this wet nappy.

Finally, James came into the room, answering my call. He looked like he had just stepped out of a shower – his hair was still wet and he carried a strong shampoo smell into the room with him.

"How's my boy doing?" he said happily, smiling at me as he came to the crib.

I made a noise of discomfort, hoping he would understand that I needed to change right away.

"Oh I know that whine. Don't worry, mini me, I'll get you cleaned up." And he lifted me out of the crib and to the changing table.

As we were approaching the changing table, I realized what exactly was about to happen.

_Ok, brain. This is one memory I don't need to relive…_

This was too strange. I wasn't about to do this. There was no way. But what was I to do? It's not like I could run away or _tell_ James I could do this myself…or could I?

I resorted to struggling against him, and when that obviously didn't work, that led to crying. Why were my bloody emotions so strong right now?

"Shhh, I know, Harry, I know…" That bit didn't help me relax because _he didn't know._

After the horrible act, I wouldn't blame a baby for crying so much while being changed, because it was absolutely mortifying.

When James was done, he sat me up on the table.

"There. That wasn't too bad, now was it?"

I grumbled as well as I could to show my distaste, but I don't think James was getting my message.

There was still a ball of nerves rolling around in my stomach as I wondered how long I would be in this baby form. Maybe…just maybe this was real? Did I somehow transport to the body of my baby self? Was I just dead, and reliving my earliest memories? As exhilarating as it was to see and feel my parents, I was anxious at the idea of not being able to talk – or being a helpless baby for that matter. How could I tell Lily and James that I was older me trapped inside younger me?

No. I was just being paranoid. I would probably wake up in St. Mungos anytime soon now.

James put a clean baby blue onesie and a pair of white socks on me. It was so degrading to be dressed in these baby garments, but James didn't know that. He looked over me, sitting there on the changing table, my legs sprawled out and my arms at my sides. I looked back at him, wondering what he was going to do. I must've looked strange, since he started to laugh at me.

"Why so serious, Harry? Now that you know how to walk, you're suddenly all grown up, are you?" he joked.

_I am grown up. _That nervous ball in my stomach seemed to rise to my chest and burst. I still hadn't come to terms with the idea I might never get out of this baby form. And I began to cry again.

_Stupid tears._

James's smile disappeared at once and he took me in his arms. "Don't cry, Hare. It was only a joke."

_Ha ha._

"You're probably hungry, aren't you?" James said, although I wasn't really listening.

I was a baby. I had almost no control over my body. I was completely dependent. This was a new feeling for me. Not even at the Dursley's had I ever been this dependent. I cooked my own food, changed my own clothes, and cleaned my own messes. I had never been "babied" or spoiled rotten. I didn't need someone to wipe my arse. I could do it perfectly fine by myself!

Realizing my problem wasn't hunger, James patted my back while I cried. I felt stupid for crying for the second time today, but it was as if I couldn't control my emotions. It wasn't that I was sad, but I was scared, and my body reacted accordingly…as a baby would.

James nestled my head against his upper neck, with his jaw resting against my temple. I could feel the warm air coming from his nostrils as he breathed. He bounced me, and I gradually began to feel comforted, much to my surprise.

Maybe this wouldn't be the end of the world. Maybe I should just let this happen. It might be nice to depend on somebody else for a change. It wasn't going to be easy. Being treated like a baby at seventeen was not exactly a dream come true. Being surrounded by my parents though…it is the only thing I have ever really wanted.

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><p>Later that day I was forced to sit at the dining table in a high chair, with another degrading piece of clothing – this time, it was a bib tied around my neck. In front of me was a jar of horribly awful-looking orange baby mush. I had a spoonful of it in my mouth, and was trying to make myself swallow it. But I couldn't, and surely I looked disgusted as I let most of the food dribble out of my mouth. How was this food made anyway? My guess was that overripe vegetables were stuffed down the garbage disposal and then recollected from the drain into this jar.<p>

"Lils...by the look on his face, I think we ought to feed him something more appealing," James said, sniggering at my expression from across the table.

But Lily held another spoonful out for me, determined to get me to eat more. "Of course he would hate all the vegetable flavored ones."

I kept my lips sealed tight and backed my face away from the little spoon. I had never really been picky about food, but this particular food was just horrendous.

"C'mon Harry, do it for mum," Lily said, slightly cooing.

_Well…if it's for you mum._

I reluctantly parted my lips, and without hesitation Lily stuffed that dreaded spoonful right in.

"Yes, Harry!" she praised, and she smiled so big and looked so bright, that I guess that gross taste had been worth it.

"Wow Lily…he must really love you," James laughed.

"Of course he loves me!" Lily snapped at James.

"Mashed carrots has never tasted so good has it, Harry?" James asked me.

Carrots? I wouldn't have guessed.

"He's a trooper," Lily said proudly.

I choked down a few more spoonfuls until Lily finally decided I had eaten at least most of the jar (or gotten some of it on my bib…not on purpose of course).

James accioed the daily prophet to the table and began reading. As Lily tried to clean me up by smothering a towel across my chin, I caught a glimpse of the date on the prophet. At that moment Lily decided to wipe the towel across my entire face. I dodged to the left to peak at the paper.

"Stay put, Harry!"

'But I need to see this!' I tried to say while pointing at the paper, but of course, my words turned to a weird mixture of shrieks that were nonsense. I almost cringed at how stupid I sounded. I really needed to stop trying to say things.

James set the paper down, and once again the date was blocked from my view. He looked at me, amused.

"I think he wants the paper," Lily said, shaking her head and finally finishing up with cleaning my face.

"I don't know, Lily, it seems to me like he just wants to stare at his amazingly good-looking father," James said.

I looked at Lily to see her reaction. She simply rolled her eyes. She must be used to this.

She left my side and James lifted the paper back up. There was the date: May 1st, 1981. I was only 10 months old. Among other things, I was rather impressed with myself being able to walk at a fairly early age…

With a horrifying clench in my stomach I realized that if this was all real, my parents would be dead in a short six months.

I tried to suppress that awful feeling inside, but my emotions were hard to control. This was getting out of hand. I knew babies cried a lot, but I would never have imagined it to feel this way. I felt the water works coming.

It was so unexpected that James twitched a bit when he heard me first cry out. Lily was immediately by my side.

I spent the next few minutes in Lily's arms, trying to hold back the tears while listening to Lily and James figure out what was wrong. They were both confused, since I obviously wasn't hungry and didn't need to be changed.

If my parents were to die in six months, what would that mean for me? Would I have to relive my life all over again? I didn't think I could live with the Dursley's again. I didn't think I could face Voldemort so many more times all over again!

I clung to Lily, just feeling her warmth and the buzz in her chest as she said words of comfort. I cannot describe how it felt to be comforted by my own mother. It was an experience I had never quite understood. I felt safe with her. But knowing that it may all be taken away from me in six months made the situation worse.

I was torn. I didn't want to relive my life from my baby years to the battle with Voldemort…but I didn't want to wake up in St. Mungos. I didn't want this to be a hallucination or a memory.

I wanted this to be real. I wanted this to last while it could.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! If you have any suggestions or ideas for this story, I would love to hear them. You can PM your ideas to me, or just mention one in a review. They may not appear in the story, because I am a couple chapters ahead already and Harry is slowly growing up. That isn't to say I can't just insert the idea into my already written chapters, but it may not fit. I love to hear different ideas though. So give it a go if you so please!


	2. Chapter 2 - The Dead Are Alive

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – The Dead Are Alive!<strong>

I was sitting on the living room floor with just my parents. The room, I noted, was very large and it looked expensive. It didn't look like Godric's Hollow to me, but then again, I had only ever seen it in ruins.

There was a fancy dark brick fireplace, and it was the nicest touch to the entire room. The room wasn't overly grand or modern, but it was cozier and nicer than I imagined Godric's Hollow to be.

They were giving me lessons in talking. They encouraged me to repeat a lot of things they were saying. This wasn't so fun for me, because I was still horrified by my ability to destroy the English language.

Lily was serious about trying to get me to say basic things, while James was determined for me to say anything vulgar or Quidditch related.

"Say 'dingle berry'," James pronounced slowly.

"James!" Lily hissed.

I tried to hold back my laugh, but couldn't hide my gummy smile.

"At least Harry appreciates my humor," James smiled back at me. "Right Harry? Daddy's charming, isn't he?"

I laughed, but it came out as a disturbing giggle. At least, in my opinion.

Lily rolled her eyes at James. "Harry, say 'no'."

Saying no was one thing I knew I could pronounce, so I complied.

James's gaped as if he were offended. "Lily! How dare you!"

Lily was laughing. She had her hands on her stomach, she was laughing so hard.

James pretended to glare at her. Lily teasingly pointed at James, unable to stop her laughter.

James smirked. He leaned over Lily and began tickling her, making her laugh uncontrollably now. "You told him to say it so it doesn't count, darling!"

I observed the smiles on their faces, which wrinkled the corners of their mouths. The way they looked at each other, even in a fit of laughter, reminded me of how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley always looked at one another. I had never seen this type of interaction between my parents, and it was calming and reassuring. They were a perfect couple, as far as I could see. In fifth year after falling into Snape's memories, I would have thought otherwise.

Today was my second morning here with my parents. I was satisfied that after one day in I was finally beginning to understand baby life. I experienced a lot of temperature changes in this body – and now I wondered if babies were always so miserable. I couldn't communicate my problems, I was either too hot or too cold, I was as weak as a fish, I couldn't use a toilet, and half the food I tried to eat would miss my mouth.

Yesterday had been rough for my parents. I think all of my crying had upset them somehow. If only they knew! I needed to learn how to control my baby instincts (at least, the annoying ones) and so I was determined not to let anything overwhelm me today, because I didn't think I could cry anymore as it was.

"James, love, could you give Harry a bath?" Lily asked, breaking my thoughts. "It's time for me to go, and I think he's due for one…" She glanced at the clock above the fireplace, and she looked a mess. Strands stuck out of her ponytail, and she was still trying to catch her breath from all of the tickling.

I perked up at this, wondering what she meant. Where was she going? Were my parents allowed to leave the house while we were in hiding?

"Sure, love. You'll be home in time to at least say hi to them, right?" James said.

_Them?_

"I think so. I have two classes and a demonstration today. You'll make dinner, yes? I don't know if I'll be home that soon," Lily said, re-doing her ponytail.

_Classes?_

"I'll see what I can do…but don't be mad at me if it tastes awful."

"I won't." Lily smiled. She stood up and made her way to the coat rack, which was by the fireplace.

Lily put on a dark blue wizard robe that had her name engraved on the chest over her heart. Briefly I saw the all too familiar symbol of a wand crossed with a bone—printed on her robe. Was my mum a Healer? Nobody had ever mentioned that to me…

She walked over to me and plucked me from the ground.

"You take care of daddy while I'm gone, okay? He's quite the troublemaker when he's with your uncles."

My heart skipped a beat_. Uncles_? Did she mean…?

"Lily, his name isn't daddy. It's Harry," James said, getting up from the floor and smirking at her.

"I _meant _daddy. I was talking to Harry," Lily said, bouncing me and looking at James with a mischievous gaze.

"You're funny, Lils."

Lily planted a kiss on my forehead, said goodbye, and handed me to James.

When I saw Lily heading towards the fireplace, my heart began to beat a little faster. If we had a floo network, how could we be in hiding? The Ministry had to approve all fireplaces for the network, and that would mean the entire Ministry knew where they lived. Wasn't that too risky?

"Say bye, Harry," James said, and he grabbed my wrist, making me wave to Lily as she grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the tall fireplace.

"_St. Mungos Hospital!_"

The flames engulfed her and she was gone.

"It's bath time, prongsie," James said, adjusting me so that he carried me on his hip. He exited the room.

My mind was still lingering on what mum had said earlier. What about my uncles? Did dad have brothers I didn't know about, or was he really talking about Sirius? Remus? Regardless, none of this seemed to add up.

* * *

><p>James sat me in the bathtub, which was filled just above my belly. The warm water felt marvelous. I couldn't remember the last real bath I had. When Hermione, Ron and I had been searching for Horcruxes, we simply "scourgified" our bodies to keep clean. This was a nice gift.<p>

I noticed how strange that was, that I still felt weary from the battle against the death eaters. My baby body felt sore, weak, and tired. It was getting better as the days went by, but it was still a bad reminder of all those stressful days I spent hiding in the middle of nowhere with Ron and Hermione.

James placed three rubber ducks in the water in front of me.

"Your bath friends, Harry!" he smiled at me.

I smiled back, but only because his smile was rather contagious. I grabbed one of the ducks to pretend I was interested in it. I stared at its plastic emotionless expression, and I didn't know what to do with it. I suddenly felt self-conscious, because I sensed James's eyes on me, as if he expected me to play. If babies could blush, I must have been really pink.

"Oh, I know, mate. You're probably so bored of these ducks. Your mum and I haven't had the chance to get you something new," he said, and I sensed he felt bad. He stared at them for a couple moments in deep thought. Then he pulled out his wand.

"Don't worry, I have an idea," he whispered loudly, then he winked at me. He pointed his wand at the tub water.

_Uh oh, _I thought, only wondering what mischief dad was up to.

He murmured a spell I didn't recognize, and nothing visible shot out of his wand, but I felt a puff of air blow my messy hair back. I looked around me, wondering what he had done.

The water which was once quite still began to bob in little waves, slapping gently up against the walls of the tub. The clear water began to turn a pretty blue-green color, and it was all starting to look like ocean water, only the waves were much smaller.

James held his wand vertically and muttered another spell, waving the wand in a circle. This time his wand left a purple trail, and when the circle was complete, it moved forward and above my head, like an angel's halo. The purple ring hovered there for a bit while I looked up at it with wide eyes, not knowing what to expect. I was a little bit worried. I had always been told James loved to prank…but he wouldn't prank a baby, would he?

The bright purple ring burst into mist with a soft hiss, but then I heard the sound of seagulls all around me. I looked closely at the purple mist, and I noticed in awe that the mist had turned into hundreds of images of miniature seagulls. The seagulls were no larger than an eyeball, and they flew slowly around my head.

I reached out a swiped at the seagulls, which turned back to mist. But the images slowly reconstructed themselves into seagulls again.

I saw another spell shoot directly into the water, and a blue mist rose above the bath water. The mist gathered together and formed images of miniature whales swimming through the water. A couple of whales jumped sideways out of the water, crashing heavily back in. Others spouted water from their blow holes. I splashed my hands through the water, destroying the images, but watching as they amazingly reconstructed themselves just as the seagulls had.

I hadn't noticed I was gurgling, but when I did I stopped and looked up at James, almost forgetting that he was there. Where did he learn to do all of this?

He was holding back a smile. And I looked back at him very impressed – or, as impressed as a baby could look.

"You have always loved that," he said, more to himself it seemed.

He pointed his wand directly at me this time, and before I had time to think he squirted a bit of water into my face.

I screeched a little in surprise, which made James chuckle. Once I realized what he had done I giggled back. I knew he would cause mischief at one point.

Once I had actually been washed, James took me out and wrapped me in a soft towel.

My hair still dripping wet, James sat me on the sink in front of the mirror. And, for the first time here, I saw my own baby reflection. I was shocked. I had seen pictures before, but looking directly at my baby self was a different experience.

My eyes seemed really big, but I guessed it was a baby thing. My skin was perfectly smooth and pale, and I noticed immediately that I had no scar. Of course. It wasn't very surprising, but just not seeing it there made my heart leap a bit in my chest.

To see every movement I made be copied by the baby on the other side of the mirror was bizarre. It was me. It was really me! I reached out and touched the mirror, watching my chubby hand collide with my reflection's chubby hand.

James held me from behind, and he was watching me with amusement. "Who's that handsome baby, huh?"

I smirked to myself. I looked up at his reflection, which stared back down at me.

"We might have to do something about that hair, though," James said, frowning at my hair, which was already beginning to dry. A couple strands were starting to pop straight up into their messy, natural positions.

James reached up and starting adjusting my hair, and for a moment I thought he was fixing it. I should have known better. He was busy trying to shape my hair into a Mohawk while it was still wet.

"Ha! Padfoot would be proud of this!" James said, laughing heartily to himself.

My hair stayed up surprisingly nicely. I grinned at my reflection and laughed along with James as I realized how ridiculous I looked. Then he readjust my hair. This time he managed to divide my hair down the middle, stick it up on either side of my head, and I looked like I had little black cat ears.

James snorted and his attempt to suppress his laughter failed miserably. I laughed along with James again, seeing how silly my reflection looked.

James ran a hand through my hair and let it fall where it belonged naturally. "Thanks for the show, pup," he said.

He wrapped his arms around my belly and kissed the top of my head. I watched our reflections in the mirror and gave myself a small grin. It was like older me was hugging younger me, and it just looked so strange. But, I noted another thing.

I was loved.

* * *

><p>"Hey! Prongs!"<p>

I dropped the xylophone mallet I was pretending to play with and jerked my head up at the familiar voice. The mallet fell noisily on the tiny xylophone in front of me.

My heart was thumping. That was Sirius's voice I had heard. There was no question about it.

James was sitting on the couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table, but he instantly sat up and grabbed a mirror that was on the coffee table. I recognized that mirror.

"Mate!" James said, looking into the mirror.

"Hey, mate. Moony is coming through first. Just thought I'd warn you, because last time I almost stepped on—"

"Harry!" James said, eyes widening, and he dropped the mirror. He rushed over to me, grabbed me, and backed away from the fireplace, which I had been sitting in front of.

The next moment the fireplace suddenly lit a bright green flame and a man came tumbling out, stepping all over the floor where I had just been sitting. Ashes dusted the air around him, and once he was stabilized on his two feet, he doubled over and coughed violently.

_Remus_.

James moved over, holding me firmly in one arm, and using his other to tug Remus away from the fireplace.

"I swear, James, some people don't clean their fireplaces. Especially Siri—"

Before the previous green flame died out, another body tumbled in the room, interrupting Remus and igniting the flame big and bright once again. This time, my xylophone was stepped on. As the instrument let out a few dull notes, the man tripped and landed on his stomach. The ashes flew everywhere around his body.

It was Sirius. _Sirius._

I blinked and stared. I thought my heart would explode. He was in our living room, alive. Well, of course he was, but…he was _alive!_

Sirius stood up and dusted himself off, walking calmly away from the fireplace as if nothing had happened. He stood next to Remus, in front of James and I, grinning.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. They both looked so young and _well_. That much was obvious even though they were covered in ashes.

James was sniggering. "So…you ever flooed before, Padfoot?"

Sirius took no offense, but pointed accusingly at me. "I think this little prankster put that toy there just for me to trip on, don't you think?" he joked.

James laughed. "What can I say, I've taught him well!"

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but then he went into a raging fit of coughs.

"Woah, there, Moony. Don't get too excited," Sirius said, clapping his friend on the back.

Remus glared at his friend in between coughs.

The flame had already died out by now, but it was lit once again. And for a moment I was confused.

The three adults turned and looked back at the fireplace.

A body fell clumsily out of the flames. He almost fell over, but caught himself just in time. He stood up, dusted himself off, and turned to face us all, smiling innocently.

Pettigrew.


	3. Chapter 3 - It Feels so Real

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: This chapter is written in (mostly) third person. I hope that does not throw any of you off. Sorry if you dislike it, but it's the way I wanted it written. Also, sorry it took so long to update. I got writer's block on top of suddenly having a crazy schedule. I plan on continuing this story…hopefully me saying this is reassuring. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 3 **

It was too much to handle. Harry wasn't sure if he should be ecstatic at the sight of Sirius and Remus, or if he should be focused on the rat that had just entered the room.

His heart pulsed rapidly, but then he remembered that this could all just be a dream. He often woke at the climax of the dream, and wondered that maybe this was it. Maybe this was the part where he would finally be jolted awake.

Real or not, the emotions were overwhelming—they came from the idea of his parents, Remus and Sirius all alive and together. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd experience such a thing. He looked up at James, who was focused on his friends. Harry pressed his cheek into James's chest. There was a definite heartbeat, and for Harry, that was as real as this could get. Feeling the pulse made his own heart beat faster. His senses had never been this sharp in a dream. He had a hard time believing he'd ever wake up now.

Harry's eyes darted from Remus, to Sirius, to Peter, over and over again. What was he supposed to think? He almost didn't mind Peter's presence. He was so preoccupied by the new and improved Marauders.

Harry's eyes finally settled on Sirius. Sirius wore a handsome smile and he didn't have the wrinkles Harry remembered. Remus looked quite different now, but Sirius looked drastically more different. Azkaban had done a horrible number on him, and Harry had never seen him before his imprisonment—at least in the flesh. His grey eyes were now full of a happiness Harry never knew he could possess. His hair was not matted. It was long, straight, and healthy. Harry had only just met this Sirius, but by his exterior he could say he was much less traumatized than the Sirius he knew. He had a sort of collected, casual grace about him that Harry didn't recognize. It was far different from the slightly anxious and depressed Sirius that he had known.

Next he looked at Remus, who looked incredibly different as well. Although he still had a few visible scars on his face, he lacked the wrinkles Harry was used to seeing him with. He had no facial hair, and not a gray hair was on his head. His robes weren't patched and worn, either. He looked happier and much less tired, but most importantly he didn't look lonely anymore. He now had a family that he belonged to.

The happiness in Harry's heart was one he had never felt before. Not only was he getting his parents back, but he was getting new and improved versions of his parent's best friends. He wished so badly that he could speak to them.

"Nice trip, Wormtail?" Sirius said, clapping Peter on the shoulder, ashes flying everywhere as he did.

Harry's mood faltered only slightly as he watched the exchange. He internally shuddered at the sight of Sirius treating Peter like a friend. The Sirius he knew would want to kill him. This Sirius was still under the impression that Peter was loyal.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on Peter. The longer he stared, the more it began to hit him that he was facing the man who was the cause of his misery. He frantically wondered what he should do. It didn't seem plausible to even try to tell James. It seemed nearly impossible to explain the situation when he couldn't even form sentences. But couldn't this be his chance to turn their lives around?

_This isn't real._ Harry thought to himself.

Remus waved his wand over everybody, clearing the ashes, then he straightened his robes and turned to Harry.

"Hullo, Harry," he greeted, grinning at him cheesily.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and managed to force a gummy grin back. He even struggled to say Remus's name, but he was so preoccupied by his looks and the peculiarity of the situation to say it correctly.

"_Weemoose_."

Harry wanted to hide when he heard how badly he pronounced Remus's name, but none of the adults seemed to consider it odd or embarrassing. In fact, Remus's smile grew even bigger.

James, smiling at his son's adorable attempt, passed Harry over to Remus.

Harry's face was just inches away from Remus's now. He could see the resemblance between the current Remus and the Remus who was his third year professor. For Harry, it briefly brought back memories of third year, when he had discovered the Marauders, boggarts, werewolves, and dementors. Harry hadn't realized how much Remus had aged between third year and seventh. He must have been through a lot.

Remus bounced Harry and grinned widely at him. "You're a lot heavier than I remember," he noted, staring straight into Harry's baffled eyes.

"Are you calling Harry fat?" Sirius inquired, sniggering. He moved closer and examined Harry, seeing if maybe he had gained a pound or two.

"Shut up, Sirius. My son is not fat," James snapped playfully back while Remus simply ignored him.

"Remus said it first," Sirius blamed, shrugging while James shook his head.

Sirius held his arms out towards Harry, and Remus handed him over.

Harry didn't realize it, but he was giving Sirius a rather strange look. It was from the shock that he was actually seeing and feeling his long dead godfather.

"Hey, it's Uncle Padfoot…don't you remember me?" Sirius asked.

It seemed like such a silly question. Of course Harry remembered him. In a trance, he half consciously tried to repeat back Sirius's nickname.

"Foo…"

That was close enough to 'Padfoot' for now.

Sirius smiled very brightly. "He just said my bloody nickname!"

"Congratulations. But soon enough, _'foo'_, you're going to need to learn how to filter what comes out of your mouth!" James scolded Sirius, although he was slightly joking.

"Imagine Harry learning to say 'bloody'. She would murder you two," Peter commented, coming up from behind Remus so that now all the Marauders stood in a circle.

Harry, who had finally just been slipping out of his shock, turned his eyes to Peter, startled once again. This Peter was uncharacteristically confident. The following conversation that ensued between the Marauders, Harry did not hear. Just seeing Peter again made him more aggravated by the second, but he couldn't stop observing him. He remembered the night Peter escaped once again in his third year. He remembered the night Peter cut him and gave his blood to revive Voldemort. He remembered his cowardice as he kneeled obediently before Voldemort many, many times. He stared and took note of everything about him, trying to find something even slightly suspicious.

Peter was extremely short and, combined with his youth, he looked like he could have still attended Hogwarts. Like the others, his skin was clear and his hair was full. He didn't have the bald spot, but he was still chubby. His eyes were just as beady, but he didn't seem fearful or flustered as usual. In fact, Peter seemed rather composed. He didn't appear to be hiding anything…but he had fooled Harry's parents before, so Harry remained suspicious.

"He can say 'dada' and 'mama', but he can't say 'James' or 'Lily' yet…I tried to make him say 'dingleberry' yesterday…"

Harry tuned in and out of the conversation as he watched Peter snort with laughter along with the others. He was disgusted by his mousy features, even though they were not as punctuated as Harry remembered them.

"Can you say 'Wormtail'?"

Harry blinked, staring straight at Peter, wondering if he had really just spoken to him. And in such a calm, polite manner.

"Don't be daft, Peter. If he can barely say 'Padfoot' he definitely can't say 'Wormtail'," Sirius said.

Harry continued to stare blankly, not even attempting his name, but he could feel his blood boil. Even if he could say his nickname, he didn't want to. Harry was angry.

Remus chuckled. "It was worth a try, I guess." He put a hand on Peter's shoulder and smiled at him, _like a friend_.

Before Harry could stop myself, he let out a loud whine. All eyes turned to him and he instantly felt self-conscious. He hadn't meant to make a sound, but he didn't like Peter's involvement at all. He shrunk back into Sirius's arms.

James raised a brow. "Alright there, Harry?"

Harry looked away from Peter. Maybe he could just pretend he wasn't there. He really was so happy to see Remus and Sirius reunited with James, however Peter's presence dulled what would have been a great experience.

"I think he's just a bit tired or something," James said. "You know…typical baby problems."

Harry's mind still wandered on to Peter. He thought about what Hermione would do in this situation. She was always the smart, rational one. Would she try to reveal Peter's true loyalty? If so, Harry had no idea how that was possible.

Then a thought occurred to Harry. If Peter was serving Voldemort, that would make him a Death Eater. If he were a Death Eater, he would have the Dark Mark on his arm.

Harry whipped his head around to check Peter's arm. But, of course, the Marauders all had long robes on. He glanced at their wardrobe, and it appeared they all had muggle-like clothing underneath.

He wondered when they might take off their robes. So far, they had only been small talking. They had to settle anytime soon…

Harry began fidgeting from impatience, and even making small noises of discomfort, but he hadn't realized it.

"Settle down, Harry…" James was saying, staring at Harry, looking concerned.

Harry looked back at them, and they were all staring at him again. He was surprised they had noticed how distressed he was, and it was then that he realized he was making movements and sounds unintentionally. Perhaps it was all out of his control.

"Let me hold him," Peter squeaked. "He keeps staring at me."

Harry looked wide eyed at him. That was the last thing he wanted. But, surely enough, Sirius handed Harry over.

As soon as Harry's skin met Peter's, his anger intensified. After realizing that he had been out of control with his actions, Harry tried extra hard not to make a sound, for the sake of not sounding so whiny….and babyish, even though that's what he was.

When he felt Peter's arm around him, though, Harry felt heat coming from his face, as a result of his anger and awkwardness. This was not the same Peter he had known. Wouldn't he have been too terrified to carry Harry at all, knowing that he was going to give him up to Voldemort? Unless he really was that good at deceiving. But Harry had seen him shake before. He knew just how cowardly he could be.

Harry felt hot, and sick almost. Peter was bouncing him now, and Harry wished he wouldn't. He wished Peter would put him down. It was getting harder and harder to suppress words or sounds from escaping. He could still feel breakfast inside of him, and when he finally opened his mouth…

He spit up all over Peter's robes.

Peter held Harry straight out in front of him, his arms completely extended. Looking at Peter's shocked face and dirty robes, Harry was actually sort of pleased with himself.

Sirius was immediately barking with laughter. James took Harry from Peter, looking sort of dumbfounded but very entertained. Remus had a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his laughter to embarrass his friend less.

James cleaned Harry with a quick scourgify. "So…that's why you were so squirmy, eh Harry?" he laughed.

Sirius clapped Peter on the back. "Way to solve _that _problem."

"_Scourgify_," Remus snickered, pointing his wand at Peter's robe. "Peter, you should remove your robe…you've got some on your shirt."

Harry, with a bit of adrenaline rushing through him, quickly gave all of his attention to Peter. He was about to remove his robe, and now Harry could check his arm for the Dark Mark. He felt pleased with himself again. He had unintentionally made things fall into place.

Peter nodded and, with a red face, he awkwardly removed his robe. The robe sleeves slipped off.

Peter's arms were as unmarked as fresh roll of parchment.

"_Scourgify_."

"Merlin, is that the spell of the day?" Sirius burst out, still laughing. Peter glared at him, wanting him to stop laughing already.

James looked matter-of-factly at him. "It's always the word of the day when you have a baby."

Harry heard none of the conversation. He was a bit in shock. Why wouldn't Peter, one of Voldemort's inner circle servants, have the Dark Mark? Was it so that he wouldn't get caught by his friends? But it wasn't so hard to hide a Dark Mark. Wizards always wore robes, and long sleeves during the summer wasn't rare either. Voldemort should have given him the mark by now. How else was he supposed to summon his most important spy?

Harry was mind boggled. If Lily was a Healer, if they weren't in hiding, and if Peter wasn't a Death Eater…then this must not be real. Maybe this was all just nonsense his brain was creating. If wizards could have comas, maybe he was in one.

"Poor Pettigrew…always the one with bad luck, eh?" Sirius chuckled.

"Oh sod off," Peter finally piped up, annoyed.

* * *

><p>The kitchen was filling with the homey smell of soup as the Marauders attempted to help James make dinner. Remus was the only one who was not cutting vegetables or trying to figure out the stove. He sat at the dining table that was just outside of the kitchen area, but the room was open and he could still see the rest of the Marauders. He kept Harry occupied, bouncing him lightly on his lap.<p>

Harry couldn't help smiling when Remus made faces at him and giggling when he tickled his sides. Seventeen year old Harry would not have been so easily entertained, but his inner baby instincts were taking over in those moments. It was odd for him, and although his inability to control certain feelings made him uneasy, he mostly just allowed himself to relax and _be_ a baby.

Remus proved to be very good with children, and Harry briefly thought of Ted, who would grow without a father…a very good father. Ted would be just like Harry—an orphan. Then his thoughts lingered to the image of Remus dead, right next to Ted's dead mother, along with the others…

"Harry? _Harry_?"

Harry blinked, coming back to reality. Or was it really reality? He didn't know. He glanced up at Remus, who stared down at him, concerned.

"What's on your mind, Harry? Hm?" One brow of his was raised so high it was almost hidden underneath his fringe.

Frantically, Harry thought what he could do to seem normal again. He reached up and tried to touch Remus's chin, trying to appear fascinated by it. And in a way, he was fascinated. Remus was right before him, alive.

Remus seemed to fall for it. A tiny smile played on his face as he observed Harry's innocence.

_Phew._

"Remus! You need to replace Sirius. He's almost cut himself with the knife," Peter exclaimed from the kitchen counter.

"Yes, please Remus. This is so tedious. I still don't get why we aren't using our wands," Sirius remarked.

"_Because_," James huffed, "it's what Lily wants. A muggle home cooked meal."

"It's not like it tastes any different…" Sirius mumbled under his breath.

"It may not taste different, but it's definitely more _special_."

Everybody turned at the new voice that joined the conversation. In the doorway to the dining room, there stood Lily in her Healer robes.

"Welcome home, love!" James greeted, smiling at her from where he worked. "How was training?"

_Training._ The word stuck out to Harry as he was now fully focused on his parents. So Lily was not a Healer…yet.

Lily walked over to the dining table and plopped down next to Remus. "Exhausting. We learned how to treat severest of splinching cases…and how to brew blood replenishing potions."

Before anybody could respond, she turned her attention to Harry and reached out for him. Remus passed him over without a beat. "Did you miss mummy?"

Lily lifted Harry so that he was eye level with her. She rubbed her nose against his and kissed his forehead. "You're so precious," she whispered to him, looking him straight in his eyes.

Harry looked lovingly back at her. As her identical green eyes bore into his, he contemplated to himself how phenomenal it was that he could inherit such gems like hers. He reached out and touched either of her cheeks, feeling how real she was. He felt the soft, warm air from her nostrils blow gently across his face. Everything about her exuded love and other motherly characteristics that he could not quite define at the moment.

Lily brought Harry in for a gentle squeeze, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. Harry returned her hug the best he could with his little arms.

"Dinner is just about from ready!" James proclaimed, stepping back from a steaming pot with his hands on his hips, looking proud of himself.

"Now let's hope it doesn't taste like shite," Sirius gibed.

"We'll see about that," James said confidently.

Peter started to fill bowls with the Marauder-made soup while James and Sirius set up the table with napkins, silverware, and a basket of store bought dinner rolls.

Lily placed Harry in a high chair next to her. "You guys are wonderful," she marveled.

Peter beamed, looking proud. Sirius muttered a thanks. James smiled and sat down on the other side of Harry's high chair.

"You have me whipped, Lily."

Harry almost laughed, but was able to catch himself. A baby would not find that funny. A baby did not understand that statement.

Lily shot James an exasperated look, but could not hold it for very long. She was definitely thankful, despite James's typical crude jokes.

The adults dug into dinner, and were very surprised that the soup turned out to be quite amazing. Harry was especially pleased with his little cup of soup. Earlier, he had had a rather distasteful lunch of mashed liver and zucchini_. And breakfast had been wasted on Peter_, he thought smugly.

Harry observed the adults. Each one of them smiled more today than he had ever seen them smile before. It was fascinating. Very fascinating.

* * *

><p>That night was a warm night. I could hear a fan working in the corner of the room, and the breeze brushed against my hair. I was thankful for it, since I was feeling warmer than was comfortable.<p>

I tossed and turned a lot, trying to fall back to sleep, but I couldn't. I wished I could get out of the crib and walk around.

I was too bothered to sleep. I had so many thoughts on my mind. The night with my family had been a dream come true, but as soon as everybody had left and the lights to my room had been shut off—as soon as it had all ended, bad thoughts began to creep back to me. The most bothersome of them all were thoughts about the war, and particularly all of the people I had seen dead just three days ago. I lay there and cried silently as I remembered that Remus and Tonks were gone…and Fred…and Snape. All of that new information I had learned from Snape's memories flooded back to me as well. He had loved my mum, and he had been protecting me the whole time because of it. That day had passed so fast that I hadn't had the proper time to mourn their deaths or contemplate my new perspective of Snape, but now it was all I could think about while lying in my suffocating crib.

When I went into the forest and held the resurrection stone, I was ready to die, knowing that without Snape, I would never have gotten so close to defeating Voldemort. All I had to do was let him kill me.

I was ready _to die_. I had prepared myself _to die_. Now I was here and very much alive.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading!**


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